


two steps unset

by sasspan



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, another attempt at fluff!, gotta love that supporting cast :')
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 06:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6411865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasspan/pseuds/sasspan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mylène and Ivan's first date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	two steps unset

**Author's Note:**

> was gonna post this as part of my classmates drabble series but it was a bit too shippy?? the title is from "jack and jill" by katie herzig :0

On their official first date, Mylène wore a butter-yellow dress (“It’ll bring out the gold in your hair,” Marinette had said), and tottered a little in Alya’s borrowed heels.The concert didn’t start for another ten minutes at least, but already dozens of people cluttered the concert hall, bunching around the little white-cloaked dining tables.

 _Dinner and a show_. That was what her ticket said; and then, just below, the words _Perfect for couples!. ___

Her hands had gone damp when Ivan had given it to her—there was a crinkle on one side from where she’d accidentally gripped too hard.

“We don’t have to—we can not go if you don’t want to,” Ivan had muttered, beet red all the way down his neck. “I just, uh, Nino told me that you might like it? So I just. Uh. If you want to.”

He’d gone quiet, and Mylène had stared at the ticket, at the words _Perfect for couples_ and _black-tie only_. The paper of the ticket was thick, gilt-edged. Expensive.

“Yes,” she’d said then, nearly whispered, and Ivan’s face had lit up like the candles on a birthday cake.

Now she held the ticket in her hands, twisting the corners between her fingers and feeling her palms get sweaty all over again. The dress fluttered around her trembling knees and her mouth was dry but she couldn’t lick her lips because Juleka had said she might smear the lipstick and the heels were wobbling and wobbling and she was going to fall right over, she _was—_

“Mylène,” said someone. She jolted, looked up.

Ivan stood in front of her, and oh! Oh. He looked so handsome; black suit and black tie, his hair carefully combed back and shining with gel. In one hand he clutched a bouquet of deep red tulips.

“Mylène,” he said again. “I’m sorry. Did I scare you?”

“I,” she squeaked. “No. You just…you look…” Her voice shrank; her face burned. “Nice.”

“Oh,” Ivan said gruffly. His gaze dropped, lashes fanning dark against his ruddy cheek. The sight of it had Mylène’s heart swelling. “Thanks. So do…so do you. Really nice.”

Then, as though remembering, he shoved the flowers at her. “Uh—here! I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know what kind you like so I asked Rose and she said these would be good. Sorry.”

“Thank you,” said Mylène shyly, tucking the tulips into the crook of her arm. It was an uneven exchange; she had nothing to give him. “I’m sorry! I didn’t get you anything.”

Ivan smiled. The freckles on his nose scrunched. “That’s okay. Do you want to sit down?”

“Oh, um! Yes. If you want to.” She made a move towards the nearest table, and promptly lost her balance. Panic spiked for a moment before Ivan’s hand closed around her elbow and hauled her upright.

“Careful,” he said, his other hand coming to rest, gently, at the small of her back. “Are you all right? Did you trip?”

“No—I—I don’t know,” she stuttered. His palm was warm on her back, and heavy, but not in a bad way. “I, I think it’s the shoes.”

“Let’s sit down then.” He helped her to her seat, pulled the chair back for her. Mylène watched him as he did. Her heart fluttered in her throat. Not because of the chivalry but because of the clumsy, tender way Ivan had done it all; the ticket, and the flowers, and his hand on her back.

The lights were dimming by the time they had both settled in their seats. Mylène had set her ticket and the flowers to the side and now stared at Ivan’s hand where it lay on the tabletop. Maybe she could…reach out and hold it? Would that be okay?

“Mylène,” he murmured suddenly, leaning close. Her gaze flicked to his face, the angles softened by the darkness. “Thank you for coming.”

Blinking, she smiled and felt the last of her anxiety fall away. “Thank you for asking me.”

Ivan beamed, an expression as familiar and dear as her own heart. “Of course,” he said, and took her hand.


End file.
